


Second Nature

by jaegerbombastic (gabrielle015)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Breaking Boundaries, F/M, Hot Sex, Secret Sex, Sex, it's a date, jeannyboy, nicely descriptive sex, routine sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:29:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4328565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabrielle015/pseuds/jaegerbombastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had done this so many times it was like second nature.<br/>He could no longer count how many times they had done this, nor did he care to. The amount didn’t matter so long as it didn’t stop anytime soon. <br/>She came to him, and he delivered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Nature

**Author's Note:**

> I ship them...hard.

They had done this so many times it was like second nature.

She would lead, and he would follow. Every movement, every noise, every breath was conjured by her. If she hissed, he would moan. If she moaned, he would throw his head back. If she threw her head back, he would do that thing she hated where he bit at her smooth neck.

When (not if) she finished, he would too, matching her intensity with his own.

He could no longer count how many times they had done this, nor did he care to. The amount didn’t matter so long as it didn’t stop anytime soon.

He had been on her for years, despite the occasional girlfriends and casual sex. The bottom of it all, the edges of everything somehow still lead to Mikasa, and he had learned how to not be so disheartened by that.

Jean knew how he felt about her, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what she felt for him. She was good about concealing, and even better about confusing. And he had figured that out ever since she came to him their senior year of high school.

That was the first time. He was staying over at Jaeger’s, and while that brown haired loud-mouth friend of his was asleep in his own room, Mikasa crept into the living room where Jean was assigned to sleep, and it was the epitome of ‘one thing led to another.’

He had always known that things could never be serious between the two of them. Mikasa didn’t take him seriously, and while Jean always wished things could be different, he was willing to be satisfied with even the smallest ounce of her he could get.

This was an unhealthy obsession, or so he believed. His feelings had always run deep, and they carved a well in his heart the moment she sat on top of him on the couch.

He knew nothing about her love life, her sex life; nothing. He knew about as much as everyone else, not including Eren and Armin (who knew everything), and that was that she was not interested in being exclusive or committed to anyone. That included Jean.

So when she said she wanted to, Jean was utterly confused, but no way in hell was he going to deny her. The entire time she was on him, moving and bouncing slowly and surely, and even when he was hissing and grabbing at her like she was going to blow away, he had an underlying feeling that he would somehow wake up and it would all be a dream.

He’d dreamt her before, doing things similar to what she did to him that night. But the reality of it was much scarier than the fantasy, because it made everything real, dangerous, and addicting.

She went first, closing her eyes tight and moaning. She kept moving, moving on Jean so that he could follow. Jean remembered wrapping an arm around her back, bring her down, and moving up into her, not minding the constriction of his flannel pajama pants around his ankles. She rubbed his hair, the undercut to be specific, and he let go, pressing his face into her chest and trying to conceal his own noises.

She had left him after that, and even though he was pleasured, he still had a bad feeling in his gut. They would all wake up tomorrow, and nothing would be different. He would still pine secretively, and she would go about her life as she always had.

He wasn’t wrong, that had happened. She didn’t mention it, she acted no different. Meanwhile, Jean was burning up on the inside with anger and lust. He wanted her again, but he didn’t. He felt oddly used, but he had allowed it; hell, he’d _wanted_ it. But he wanted more of her than she was willing to give.

Which led to their current situation. They’d fuck. They’d schedule it, meet up somewhere, and fuck. Every time made Jean weak in the knees. The idea of them doing this in secret, the thought of her coming to him every time, it made his heart pound. It made him wear that stupid grin on his face when she was bent over for him. It gave him confidence to whisper things in her ear while they were in that position, tug on her smooth hair that he always loved.

She came to him, and he delivered.

Right now, they were on his bed. Marco was gone from the apartment, actually, he was out with the rest of their group of friends. Everyone was hanging out at the bar around from the Uni that they all attended, except for Mikasa and Jean.

Jean told Marco that he had homework to finish, and Mikasa told Eren that she had to work late.

That gave him a thrill. Everyone thought they were off doing their own individual things, but right now, they were doing each other, and that made his heart pound too.

She was on top again, skin shiny with sweat, sitting straight up, hands on his abdomen, bouncing up and down on him, breasts moving along with her, hair all over the place.

It was hot, literally and figuratively. His hands were behind his head. He knew that made him look authoritative, almost bored with her ministrations, but that was all he had. She was really the one in control, and as much as they had done this, he had never stopped being slightly embarrassed by how desperate he was in bed.

His hands would always claw at her, rub her, dig into her. He would always hold her, and he felt like that was a little too close, too intimate, to always hold onto her. They were using each other solely for the purpose of pleasure; he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. He didn’t want her thinking that he was trying to catch feelings.

That would make no sense to someone else, but it made complete sense to him. So, he let her move. He watched her, never taking his golden eyes off. He bit his bottom lip to keep from calling out her name like he wanted to.

Her head was forward, back, side to side, round and round. Her eyes were opened, then they were closed. Her noises were soft, then they were loud. She would bounce, then she would grind, moving herself down onto him so that she could rub herself against his pelvis as well. She was wet, and then she was wetter. She was intense, as she always was.

“Fuck.” She breathed, making Jean twitch inside her. He knew Mikasa was pretty good about being generous. She wouldn’t ride him to his end all the time, sometimes she let him switch it up. And it looked like tonight was going to be one of those nights, when she stopped riding him and moved away.

She sat back, sliding herself off him slowly, and if that wasn’t a sight, her turning around and spreading herself was even better.

She didn’t need to say anything, her movements were suggestive enough.

Jean sat up, moving towards her, pulling her back, making her gasp in surprise. He rubbed himself on her, enjoying the sight of her trembling here and there. Her skin was so smooth, so nice. Her ass was nice too, but he intended to turn it to a different color by the end of it.

He pushed her down gently, so that her head was resting on the bed while her rear was in the air, then he moved inside.

Slowly. He watched himself enter her, he heard her gasp. She was a damn treasure, and he enjoyed discovering and unraveling her every time.

He didn’t want to be gentle tonight, though. He wanted to be rough; he loved the sounds she made when he was rough.

So instead of running a hand up her glistening back and to her neck, he planted a hand directly on her ass, liking the sound echoing in his room, and the sound of her as well.

She groaned, burying her face in the bed, because eye contact wasn’t something they really did, so her looking back at him was a no-go.

Nevertheless, Jean was always watching her. In school, at lunch, in class, in the hallways, at a party, the beach. Everywhere she went, Jean’s eyes would purposely follow; discreetly.

She must have been watching him too. She had to have been, if she even considered letting all of _this_ become a thing. Jean liked to think that his feelings, as far as physicality was concerned, weren’t one-sided. Obviously not.

He would make his strokes long, then he’d pound. He’d pound, then he’d stroke. He’d grab her ass, smack it, call her name, lean forward and tug at her short hair, lifting her head up.

He knew she loved that, contrary to what she would say after the fact. ‘Don’t pull my hair, Jean.’

He’d do it anyway.

“Don’t pull my fucking hair.” She muttered. Her teeth were clenched, sucking in air as Jean continued moving into her.

Mikasa laid her head back down, arching her back up a bit more and reaching behind her with her hands to spread herself, giving Jean better access.

He groaned, inhaling and thrusting harder, keeping his rough hands on her hips. He saw one of her hands flittering between her legs, and _fuck_ that was a beautiful sight.

His queen sized bed was creaking, and he knew that his neighbor underneath him could hear. It was a single guy in his thirties that lived beneath him, and had complained once before that Jean would make too much noise with his partners.

That day, Jean had waited for the elevator to ping and open before he rolled his eyes and kept walking.

He might have to hear more complaints again, but he didn’t care. These moments with her made everything alright.

“Jean.” She cried, her voice broken. He loved her voice when it sounded like it was about to give out, just like her body. She had stamina, of course, but he hadn’t let up his pace since he got behind her, and if the trembling in her back meant anything, she was close.

The way she said his name in bed and the way she said it in public were surely different. It pleased him to know that the annoyed way she speak to him around their friends contrasted with the heated way she called to him during sex.

“Hmm?” He hummed. “You close?”

He knew she loved dirty talk, even though she didn’t talk much during sex. Her sounds were confirmation enough.

And she moaned, and he knew that moan. He learned that the long, desperate sound meant she was almost to the edge, and speaking of the edge…

He was really into edging.

Mikasa would complain that she hated it, because it was unfair to her, and took up more time than necessary. Jean would disregard it, because he knew it was because she didn’t like being reduced to begging, ever.

But he loved hearing her like that, it made him feeling important, _wanted_. So when Mikasa sat up and readjusted herself so that she could move back on Jean as he moved into her, and when she continuously moaned, Jean grabbed her hips, thrust into her quickly, bringing her closer, faster to that point. Her sounds were increasing in pitch, she called his name one more time, clenched at his bed cover, cursed, and…

Jean pulled out to the tip, and stopped.

“Fuck!” She said, slamming one hand on the bed in frustration. Jean laughed behind her, slowly inching himself back in, reaching once more to pull her hair.

“I’m sorry, were you close?”

“Fuck you.” She answered, leaning back down to rest her head on the bed.

Jean smirked and leaned over her, yanking her back up by the hair, not too hard, not too gentle, but just enough so that she moaned again.

He leaned in by her ear, and whispered. “You wanna come?”

She closed her eyes and groaned, almost in a way that Jean distinguished as ‘yes.’

“Hmm?” He questioned, thrusting into her sharply. To be truthful, he wasn’t going to carry this on forever. He himself was dancing on the edge, and holding back tonight had been a challenge, considering that they hadn’t seen each other for two weeks.

Damn school, damn work. Everything somehow got in the way of them being like this, leaving him itching for her.

And he was close right now, and he wanted to finish too, so he wasn’t going to drag this out. But he was most definitely going to make her say the magic word.

“What’s the magic word?” He asked, thrusting into her again in a way that made both of them moan.

“Jean…”

“Yes?” He asked, beginning to pick his pace back up. The way he was hunched over her only gave him the ability to pound into her. So, he did.

Now their flesh was tapping against each other’s again, and Jean felt that deep, warm feeling in his groin well up again.

“Say it.” He demanded.

She cried. “Yes, please, _fuck_ , fucking make me come. Come with me, Jean.”

And that was more than enough.

He let his own sounds flow, tangling with hers in the air, and he called her name when he felt her tighten and shout.

She went over that edge, and went right with her, falling at a speed right behind hers, finishing last, but still victorious.

He kept his front locked to her, wanting to draw this orgasm out for as long as he could, wanting to feel her for every second he was allowed, because typically after he came, Mikasa would pull away, clean herself up, dress, and leave.

Like right now.

She moved forward, pulling herself away from him, and he slid out of her.

She crawled forward, and moved to get off the bed. Jean was still breathing heavily, and he sat down for a second, then moved to sit on the edge of his bed.

Mikasa had opened the bedroom door and moved down the hall to the bathroom. Jean reached to his bedside table, grabbed the empty condom wrapper, and did the honors.

He tossed it in the trash, then crossed the room to turn the light on. He threw on the boxers he had been in when she came over and walked down the hall to the kitchen.

The apartment he shared with Marco was pretty basic, but it was enough for two working college students. As long as it was neat and clean like they both preferred it.

He grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge, like always, if they were at his place.

He leaned back against the counter, trying to process everything that had just taken place, and fought that shit-eating grin right off his face.

On the fridge was a photo of all of them at the beach. It was last summer, and Armin had forgotten to put on sunscreen. He was good and red, frowning in the group photo that Sasha had persuaded a random person to take.

It was a good day, as always, as long as it was with them. Including her.

He heard the bathroom door open, and footsteps move back down the hall to his room. Mikasa was going to get dressed, grab her purse and phone, walk up front, down the bottle of water quickly, and say some words of parting along the lines of ‘I’ll call you,” or “see you around.”

She’d show herself out, as she preferred it, and Jean would still be there, trying to figure out what the hell to do next.

His recollection of the sequence of events were correct, and soon Mikasa was walking back down the hall, back in her jeans and half-top and patterned overcoat. Her short heels clicked, her hair was back to normal.

“Thanks.” She said, picking up the bottle and knocking it back, fast.

Jean didn’t even watch her. He always took her speedy movements that she didn’t want to be around him longer than necessary. And while they couldn’t exactly have a sleepover (because Marco), he wished she didn’t have to skip out so soon.

“What are you doing next Friday?” He asked, because this had been on his mind for the past few weeks and he _needed_ to ask.

She was looking at her phone, scrolling. “Work.”

“What time?”

She looked over at him, eyes expressionless. “Same time as always. Seven in the morning until two in the afternoon.”

Jean cleared his throat. “Well, I was asking because I got these tickets for this concert in Rose Square downtown. It’s just a few local bands, but it’s good music, good food. You know, something to do on a Friday night.”

He had to be stupid, as smart as he was, he was a dumbass for this. She was going to say no. He’d asked her out on dates before, and she still said no. She was going to say no now.

“Jean…

“I know.” He interrupted her, fake smiling to put her off. “You’re gonna say no. It’s cool. I was just seeing if you were up for it.”

It hurt to act like he didn’t care, but even more so in front of her. He felt a little hot; must be embarrassed.

He went back to staring at the fridge and sipping on his water, then as soon as he heard soft kitten heels in his direction, he looked over.

She moved next to him, then hopped up so that she was on the counter. She left her finished water bottle where it was.

It took her a while, but she inhaled.

“Why not.”

His eyes went wide. “What? Why not what? What?”

She smiled gently. “I’ll go with you. It sounds like a good time.”

He smiled too. “Are you fucking with me right now?”

She shrugged. “It’s just two friends hanging out, right?”

He shrugged as well. “It’s whatever you want it to be.”

She leaned in closer, and he did too, putting their lips just a millisecond away from each others.

“What do _you_ want it to be?” She asked softly, looking right at his lips.

Jean looked at hers. “You already know what I want it to be.”

“Then it can be that.” She said, looking back in his eyes.

This was all quite uncharacteristic of her, and this was not how their post-coital actions routinely went. But Jean couldn’t say that he wasn’t enjoying all of it. Every second.

“Sooo,” he drew out, “It’s a date.”

“It’s a date.” She answered.

“I’ll pick you up?”

“I don’t want Eren getting suspicious. How about I meet you there? By Rose Tower.”

Jean nodded, feeling the excitement doing somersaults in his stomach. “Alright. Deal.”

She nodded, then she moved off the counter. “Thanks again.” She said, picking up her purse and walking towards the front door.

“Anytime.” Jean said. “See you Friday, seven o’clock.”

She looked over her shoulder, and graced him with that smile again. “Yes.”

Then she was gone.

That wasn’t routine, it wasn’t common, but now Jean had something else to look forward to. A date. An actual date with Mikasa. And while they had never been on one before, he had a feeling that he’d know just how to make her happy that night, and finding ways to please her had become second nature.  

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: nocanonhere


End file.
